Sneak Attack
by RaineArilan
Summary: It came out of nowhere and Soul will never be the same. The Birds and the Bees, Death Scythe style. Maka-centric because, when it comes to Papa, what isn't? MakaxSoul. T for language.


It came out of nowhere, an attack of epic proportions.

Epically _bad_ proportions.

Soul felt his back hit the wall, the blow softened by his favorite jacket. Though it did help that the guy who'd thrust him there wasn't exactly the threatening type. His hits, in human form at least, were far less painful than those of his daughter.

Tilting his head back until it thumped the wall softly, he looked at the over-dramatic redhead and tried to decide what he was feeling. Not in pain, no. Annoyed, definitively. Bored, yeah. That was it. Bored. It wasn't like he hadn't heard this idiot blather on about Maka-this and Maka-that before.

It wasn't like the speech changed that much either.

"Is this going to take awhile?" he asked, his lips twitching slightly with the desire to show his teeth to the moron. "Cause if I wanted t—"

"Quiet!" Death Scythe hissed, clapping his free hand over Soul's mouth. His eyes roamed the length of the side hallway that was, no surprise, completely empty.

Soul narrowed his eyes, sitting on the desire to give that hand a bite it would remember. He had no emotional bias against the man like Maka did, but Soul was more than willing to hurt him on his own merits. Only the fact that this _was_ Maka's father, and he looked nearly frazzled with worry, held Soul back.

For the moment. For this moment only. But that idiot better find another use of his hand if he—

"Okay," Death Scythe let out a sigh and let go of Soul entirely, taking a step back. "I think we're safe."

Soul stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants. "Stein-hakase wasn't even teaching today," he pointed out drily.

"No, no," Death Scythe waved a hand in front of his face as he shook his head. "_Maka_! For a meeting of this importance we must avoid her at all costs and as soon as I'm trying to avoid her, she finds me. Just like her mother that way."

The older man shuddered faintly, earning a moment of sympathy from Soul. He'd met Maka's mother on more than a few occasions and frankly, though he would _never_ say as much to her, it was a good thing Maka had inherited a lot of her father's personality. _Crazy_ bitch… in a good way! He winced and glanced at the hallway intersection, as if the woman could've heard the thought and might appear at any moment.

"_Exactly_," Death Scythe breathed, his gaze following Soul's down the length of the hall. "And we can't have them here for this. It's imperative."

Not even caring where Death Scythe had gotten his hands on a big person word like 'imperative', Soul refocused on the problem at hand. Namely, "You gonna _tell_ me why you hauled my ass down here?"

Death Scythe's expression wiped clean of his semi-comical anxiety, reverting to the cold worry he'd been sporting a minute ago. "It's about Maka," he said, like that should explain it all.

Soul's lips twitched again, that desire to bite the idiot resurfacing. It was _always_ about Maka. They had nothing else to talk about, at least, not in back hallways after school hours. "And?"

"And," Death Scythe glanced around again, then leaned closer to whisper, "she's getting _older_."

"Older?" Soul repeated, feeling like a parrot. Or possibly like someone was playing a trick on him. This was just too stupid for words. He opened his mouth again, but Death Scythe was already replying.

"Yes, _older_. Grown up!" His voice was still quiet, but it turned stridently plaintive. "My beautiful little girl is growing up and I've already heard… _boys_… t-talking about her! Surely you've noticed!"

Something about his expression made Soul shake his head and say a quick, "No sir."

"No, no, you wouldn't have," Death Scythe continued, almost talking to himself by now. "You're a good boy. A good friend to my girl. But it's true!" His head snapped up and he stared feverishly into Soul's eyes. "Maka is developing…" his whole being grimaced in horror, "_a womanly figure!_ And _men_ are _no-tic-ing!_"

Soul rocked back into the wall, not sure when he'd shifted slightly away from it. Well, of _course_ Maka had a, god help him, 'womanly figure'. She'd started getting that almost a year ago. He could still remember the first time she'd come home with a shopping bag she'd rushed to shove into her closet without showing him. He'd snuck into her room to look and see if it was a present for him. She'd caught him and they'd had a huge fight, almost a whole week of it, before she'd finally admitted that they were tampons.

That was definitely _not_ his favorite part of the whole experience, but the rest of it… the pretty bras she wanted to make sure he liked and the way she felt against him when they hugged, the smell at her neck and the feel of her skin as he traced her new curves with his callused fingers….

He was blushing and he swiped a hand against his nose, hopefully without being noticed, just in case. It occurred to him, then, that Death Scythe was still speaking and that he was sitting here, thinking about the feel of his hands sliding over Maka's skin _in front of her father_!

"… it is therefore our duty, as the strong, positive men in Maka's life to protect her from those disgusting lowlifes that might try and take advantage of her innocence!" Death Scythe declared, one fist raised fervently.

Soul's eyes went wide as he caught up with the conversation. _Other boys_ wanted to touch Maka? _His_ Maka? No way in hell. The part of him that made him what he was, a weapon by birth and by choice, stirred in warning and he bared his teeth at no one at all.

"I'll personally kick the ass of anyone who even talks about her having… sex," he growled, turning his glare on Death Scythe. "And that includes you, old man."

Seemingly oblivious, Death Scythe grinned and looked entirely relieved. "Good boy, Soul. Good boy." He reached out and patted Soul on the top of the head. "I knew I could count on you."

And with that, he walked away. Satisfied.

Brain catching up with his emotions, Soul watched him go, slightly amused. He had meant every word of his threat. If anyone else said or did anything to Maka they wouldn't live to see the sunrise. The fact that _they_ had been sleeping together for almost three months now had nothing whatsoever to do with it. No one needed to hear Death Scythe wail and bemoan his daughter's lost virginity. Soul kind of twitched. And no one needed her mother finding out. Nope, no one at all.

Even Maka agreed on that one.

* * *

A/N: As my Beta pointed out, people seem to leap to overly dramatic conclusions when reading fanfiction so I'm just gonna say it. YES, this takes places farther down the timeline. NO, Soul and Maka are not 13 anymore. I probably wouldn't put them much younger than 15, but no older than 16. Yes, I do realize I had Maka getting her period in the past year, but that's by no means outside the normal range. Not to mention, with the amount of physical activity(coughtraumacough) her body's gone through it only makes sense that she'd be behind the curve. So, in conclusion, no, I'm not saying little children are sleeping together, but young-to-middle teenagers having sex? Yeah. Pretty much. And no, it isn't what I'd call a RL strategy I support. But whatever. Seriously now people? This is what we're going with? If this bothers you, get over it.


End file.
